


Slashing Tires, Making Fires

by sarahandthegraveyardshift



Category: The Outsiders (1983)
Genre: M/M, implied rape (by oc)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahandthegraveyardshift/pseuds/sarahandthegraveyardshift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Shepard doesn't find Dally at the drive-in, but he catches up to him eventually at Buck's. What happens between the two when they finally come face to face?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slashing Tires, Making Fires

Dallas Winston groans as the back of his head hits the wall of the small, dark room, his vision alighting with fireworks and angry sparks from the blow. He feels the soft trickle of blood glide down through his hair, over the nape of his neck, and soak into the shirt beneath his leather jacket.

The first crack of a fist against his jaw had lead him to believe he had walked in on another couple and was being asked to leave. The second had been to his stomach, and he had figured that this was no longer about interrupting someone's good time.

And as he slowly slips to the ground, he has the distinct feeling that this person wants to intentionally harm him. Two hands grab the open flaps of his jacket and haul him to his feet before he can reach the floor.

"Slit my tires and expect to get away with it, do ya?" A hard, rough voice grinds into his ear, and a grin breaks out over Dally's face, a small chuckle escaping his throat.

"I was wondering when you'd find me." He swallows audibly, wincing as his head gives a sharp stab of pain and grunting as the other person's body slams against his own.

Tim Shepard's smile is wide and frightening, like a quarter moon at its brightest. He tightens his grip on the younger man and turns so that he can throw him to the ground, relishing in the small noise of discomfort that emanates from the writhing figure.

"Been gone a while," Shepard points out matter-of-factly, stepping over the young man so that his feet stand on either side of Dally's chest. Carefully falling down onto his knees, he sits onto the other's abdomen and leans into his face, pinning his arms above his head. "Thirty-seven days, to be exact. Wasn't it supposed to ninety?"

"Good behavior," Dallas wheezes out through a forced grin that looks more like a grimace.

"Doubt it," Tim breathes, his lips nearly brushing the ones beneath his own. "No one gets out that early on 'good behavior.' Prob'ly let one of the guards fuck you, didn't you?"

"Nah," the other boy gasps breathlessly, his eyes closing as Shepard's tongue delves into the small dip in his collarbone. "He beat off as some heavy-weight gave it to me. Biggest cock I've ever had to take."

"Then you'll be a little sensitive, I s'pose," the older boy smiles mischievously, grabbing the other's ass. Dallas, suddenly, gives a sharp cry, his eyes squinting shut tightly to prevent the tears from escaping and his fingers curl arthritically, giving a crunching sound as a few of his knuckles crack. Tim's actions cease, and he pulls away, a surprised and confused look on his face. Dally is breathing heavily, and small, pearl-like tears bead at the corners of his eyes that he attempts to blink away.

"You aren't kiddin'," The gang leader says softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he releases the younger. "Those fuckin' bastards."

Dallas sits up as carefully as possible, leaning against the bed behind him.

"It's not as bad as all that," he tries to explain.

"Do you...Do you need a doctor?" Tim inquires, trying not to sound too concerned for the other greaser. "I mean...'Cause if I gotta find another greaser to fuck around here—"

"You'd do that?" Dally interrupts quickly, a hurt look flashing across his face for a second but returning to its carefree, don't-give-a-fuck stance just as quickly. "'Cause, uh...I-I don't care...but I should be fine in a week or so...if you feel like waiting that long. If not, you can always—"

"I can wait," Shepard says with a blatant shrug. "I ain't got nothin' better to do...I guess."

"Alright, then," the younger greaser agrees with a nod, finding it a mistake as a splitting headache floods his mind. "Where were we?"

"Well, I think I was here," Tim replies, moving forward until their lips are a mere breath apart, "and I think you were about to tell me who really slashed my tires."

"Right," Dally smiles, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips roughly against the older's. The gang leader's tongue immediately forces itself into Dallas' mouth as his hands move to strip the leather jacket from him. His fingers make their way under the thin T-Shirt, smoothing over the tough, taught muscles beneath his skin. Their lips part for but a single second as the shirt is pulled over Dally's head, his necklace clinking softly and his hair becoming mussed.

All of a sudden, there is a sharp knock on the door, and an unwanted light floods the room as the silhouette of a figure stands in the frame.

"Dally," Buck's drunk, slurred voice drawls out. "Some kids here to see you."

The scene doesn't seem to faze him in the least. Truthfully, the man doesn't really care who does what with who at his parties. As long as nothing is being burned down or vandalized, he doesn't mind in the least, and he has known about Dally and Tim for quite some time, so it comes as no surprise to find them in the same bedroom about to get on with whatever they're doing.

"Tell them I'm busy," Dallas replies sharply, squinting up at the other man.

"I did," Buck shoots back. "They said it was important. It's that Cade kid and Darryl's younger brother. They seem pretty upset or somethin'."

"God damn it," Dally curses under his breath, turning to Shepard. "I'll be right back."

"Yeah, all right," Tim nods with disappointment, staring after the younger man as he leaves.

Buck directs the half-dressed man to the door, where he finds two very distraught young boys.

"What do you guys want?" He demands with annoyance.

"Johnny killed a Soc," Pony blurts after a few seconds of silence, near tears as he shivers and his teeth chatter.

"What?" Dallas asks in disbelief, his mind reeling at the new information. What the hell am I supposed to do about this? Why'd they have to come here, of all nights? God damn it! Get rid of them!

"All right, good for you. Let's go," he says finally, wanting nothing more than to slam the door in their faces and get back upstairs.

"W-We figured you could get us out if anyone could, Dal," Johnny says timidly. "I-I'm sorry I got you away from this party and all but...I just don't know what to do, man."

The boy sounds positively petrified, and no one can resist Johnny Cade when he's at his most vulnerable.

"Uh...I was just, uh, I was just trying to get some sleep," Dallas sighs, wracking his brain for something convincing. "I got in a fight with, uh, Shepard tonight."

There. That should convince them of...something.

"Wait a minute. Let me see what I can do about this mess. Get in," Dally grabs both boys, feeling the soft squish of Pony's sleeveless shirt. "Ponyboy, are you wet?"

This night just keeps getting better and better. Ushering the boys upstairs, he prays that Tim has had the good sense to either hide or leave. One way or the other, there is no way that they are going to be able to finish what they started.

Fuck, this is going to be a long night....


End file.
